


Flu Shot

by Deus_ex_Machina_superbat



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Superman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 17:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8541412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deus_ex_Machina_superbat/pseuds/Deus_ex_Machina_superbat
Summary: Twice they almost exposed their (not-so-secret) relationship, once as Clark and Bruce, and the other one as Superman and Batman.





	

01

Clark finally became aware of his mismatched socks under Lois’ scrutinizing gaze.

“Tell him I like his taste.” Lois commented with a denasal voice, her eyes above the face mask full of sassy meaningfulness.

She walked away, sneezing, and pulled out a tissue paper from the box buried in a pile of wavering documents on Clark’s desk.

Clark looked down at the two different fabric patterns that extended from the edges of his wrinkled jeans.

“Traitors.” He whispered at them.

It wasn’t his fault. The majority part of the long night had already slipped away the moment they finalized their tasks and returned to the Watchtower. Their suits, soaked in coldness and dust from the space, were pulled off carelessly from the door to the bed, mixed with their citizen clothes. Bruce successfully fell asleep before he even reached the bed, so Clark had to be the responsible one, staying awake and pulling the blankets up till the other man’s chin. They didn’t care to pull down the blind, so the littering starlight through the porthole was the last scene Clark saw before he was consumed by sweet darkness.

And then, there was piercing sunlight. Clark woke up, his left arm bent against the headboard, and the other one was hanging in front of Bruce’s eyes, feeling the twisting of his eyeballs while he was dreaming. Clark stretched and yawned lazily, basking in the light. He was filled with energy and subsequently, the familiar, horrible feeling that he was going to be late for work, again.

He shut the blind quietly with one hand, the other pulling up socks hastily, eyes staring at the alarm clock, calculating whether he still had time to stop at the kitchen for a bowl of cereal before he teleported. Obviously, he was poor on multi-tasking as the mismatched socks turned to be glaring evidences, but at least Bruce was not awoken by any dazzling light, and that’s what’s important.

The office telephone started to ring when he was busy stretching his jeans, so he hopped on one leg to pick it up.

“I have to shoot photos to encourage Wayne Enterprise employees to get flu shots today.” Bruce announced the moment he picked up the receiver. Clark could hear background noises from the other side, floods of people passing by and the photographer barking commands. “You are in with me. I talked to White and you have this afternoon off.”

Clark was slightly taken aback, “Why?”

“Because you are the only employee at Wayne Enterprise who never had flu in decades. You are a positive example and a great role model for advertisement.”

Clark almost couldn’t believe it.

“That’s _deceptive_ advertisement, Mr. Wayne.” He pointed out finally, "Pretty sure it's illegal."

02

“Hard to believe how many urban legends these adults can make up, just to avoid being stabbed by a tiny needle.”

Bruce was sitting comfortably in the loveseat, the back of which fitting him like it was tailored to his body. Clark was beside him, pretending he’s all calm and cool, while he kept pulling at the edges of his jeans with his shoes when he thought no one was looking. Bruce, on the other hand, was wearing dress pants whose edges were a good two inches away from his leather shoes when he sat down. He stretched his legs out naturally, as if he's showcasing the famous night life of the Gotham’s prince.

“You should hear how they described ‘side effects’.” Bruce continued talking, ignoring raised eyebrows all around them. “You'd think they had fought with some strong, powerful aliens instead of experiencing a little soreness in the arm.”

Clark was watching the photographer and her assistant running around, setting up reflectors and the tripod. He had to refuse a couple of times when they suggested him to take off his glasses.

“Did _you_ get the flu shot this year?” He asked casually.

Bruce was silent for a second. “No.” The abrupt answer implied the end of discussion.

“Were you afraid of the tiny needle, or the little soreness?”

Of course he was only teasing him. Medical supplies on battle fields were extremely limited, and even the most prepared person like Batman couldn’t pack the entire medical bay in his utility belt. He witnessed with his own eyes how Batman sterilized his broken bones before setting it back brutally. He was also there when the other man stitched up that long and deep wound just above his ribs without anesthetics. He was always the one with faster heartbeats, as if he had been the one who got wounded badly, which, honestly speaking, he always had wished so.

“I choose not to mess with drugs and medicines that's not made in my lab, in case they might affect my body when I had to come up with an uncommon antidote. You know how much they like biological weapons here in Gotham.” Bruce whispered in his ears, “Of course, you can also take it as I don’t like to deal with anything with a ‘shot’ in its name.”

The photographer came over and told them everything was ready, and all that’s left were their smiles. As the middle of the loveseat caved in slightly under their weight, their shoulders and knees were pressing against each other. It made it easier to capture everything with the camera, and almost in no time, the photo was slash-tagged with “4whoyoulove” and showed up in every elevator and hallway Wayne Enterprise owned.

03

The Watchtower was probably one of the only few places that everyone was fully functioning during flu season. The Flash might get infected, but he was able to metabolize those evil creatures out before his first sneeze. Green Lantern had a healthy body as a pilot, and he was protected by his alien ring. The closest thing to the topic Arthur had ever seen was the bird flu outbreak happened to seagulls at Finland. Cyborg was always more worried about unfriendly codes, and Wonder Women thought flu was a kind of instruments.

“That explained it. I was always wondering why people were getting dizzy and crying over _flute_.” Diana let out a quiet “Ah” when Cyborg shared the knowledge with her. “I thought they would develop a strong synchronous resonance with music at this specific time of the year.”

And they started an enthusiastic discussion about similarities between flu, music, and true love. Clark was among them, leaning on the window, eyes fixed on the lone figure who was sitting by the computer a few steps away.

“Don’t underestimate it. People die because of flu every year, and seniors and children are among the highest risk profile. The flu shot really works.” Flash started stating facts and research reports with that speed no one can actually follow. “We really should do something. Maybe we can help advertising it to the kids. Yes, they are afraid of needles, but who wants to be a coward in front of their favourite superhero?”

“That sounds good. I’m happy to get more involved in public health charities.” Said Diana, nodding her head. “What do you think, Batman?”

The named caped crusader didn’t look back, although heavier strokes when he was tapping on the keyboard gave away his impatience. “Don’t you people have better things to do at the moment?”

“Not really.” Said Cyborg. “The biggest thing next to flu outbreaks that people are all talking about is Bruce Wayne’s mismatched socks.”

Batman turned around with his chair, glaring at him.

“And the address is?” He bellowed.

04

Superman and Batman arrived at the designated children’s home. They could hear kids crying in chorus and unsuccessful comforts coming from nurses and volunteers on the other side of the oak gate.

Their appearances indeed lowered sound volume in the room. Kids stared at Superman with their tear tainted faces risen up, and nurses holding syringes could not tear their gazes away either. Superman was smiling, the way they’d seen so many times on TV — after a fierce battle, at a happy ceremony, in front of a desperate soul on the edge of a roof — as if he could radiate sunlight, and next he would just give them his hand, telling them “I’ve got you”.

The gazes for Batman were much less bold. They were peaking at this shadow who followed Superman in silence from the moment they entered the room sneakily. He was wrapped in his cape, so they could only satisfy their curiosity with the exposed chin below the cowl. Some people had met him before — under much worse circumstances, of course — but few had ever seen his front. He typically only allowed them to see the shadow of his cape, which was not very different from the dense dark night.

“Be brave.” Superman was lecturing them at the front, allowing some brave kids to grab at his cape. “Flu shots are not scary. Flu is scary.”

“How would you know if it is scary or not? You’ve never had one.” A boy questioned him loudly. “You are _Superman_.”

“Er, trust me, you’ll just want to stay away from it. You’ll feel awful. Really, really awful.”

Clark tried to describe the uncomfortableness flu would bring with words other than “awful”, but it was difficult to imagine. Then he came up with the earlier discussion about flu and true love they had on the Watchtower, so he decided to give it a try.

“It gives you a headache, the kind you have nothing to to deal with. You are going to feel surprised that it really happened to you. You will give up resisting after continuous headache, because you know that denial will take you nowhere. You accept it, and that’s when the headache will be lessened.”

“Then you are going to experience dizziness, and your emotions will be on a roller-coster. It will be hard to focus on other issues, because it is announcing its existence anytime. If things go wrong, you will feel this heavy lump in the chest, and have to treat everything carefully. You are not yourself anymore. However, any kind of warm drinks will lift your spirit even if it's tasteless. As a matter of fact, tiny things like this will make you really happy.”

“Then you will get used to — you are cured.” Clark suddenly realized he was not really talking about true love. He could feel Batman’s gaze piercing at his neck.

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Judged the boy.

“What — no, _no_ , it IS bad.” Clark waved his hands hastily. “It’s bad bad.”

He heard a sigh that was let out by Bruce, then it was followed by the sound of taking off upper armers. Batman strode to the nurses beside the vaccine cart, zipping down his Kevlar suit at the same time, exposing his left upper arm and shoulder.

“Watch.” He growled at the kids, taking a syringe from a nurse who seemed unable to move. He tore up a needle package, and pushed vaccine inside his arm with the swiftness one could only gain on battlefields.

“It’s so simple.” Batman raised his chin towards all those stunned kids. “Now come and line up. In alphabetical order.”

No one was left behind.

Clark just wanted to give him a huge hug. He was smiling widely, magically pulling out a band-aid with a Superman logo on it. He put it on the slightly bleeding spot carefully, and kissed it like it was the most natural thing to do.

He looked up to see Batman’s widened eyes behind the mask. Then he realized how quiet the room was at that moment. Everyone was simply staring at them.

“Look, Batman is so brave. He just set an example for you.” Clark scratched the back of his head. “You can each get a Superman band-aid, too.”

05

Clark was almost falling asleep in his room at the Watchtower, staring the the moon outside his porthole that night, when Bruce knocked at his door, and let himself in.

“Sore.” He complained, rubbing his arm. “I wish I had fought with a strong, powerful alien instead.”

Clark pulled him on the bed, turning around to look at those blue eyes.

“How would you like the fight?”

End

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still trying to work on my English so please let me know about the mistakes and confusing sentences in the article. It will be greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading it and I hope you enjoyed it!


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